


A Night at the Auction

by Armengard



Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: Auctions, Bad Flirting, Chloe has no chill, F/F, Post-Game, Pretty Stronk Girls, TFW Nadine is Dolled Up, Treasure Hunting, Uncharted: The Lost Legacy - Freeform, fancy parties
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-25 21:32:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12044697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Armengard/pseuds/Armengard
Summary: Chloe enjoys an eventful evening at the auction.Nadine does not.





	A Night at the Auction

So, she’s mingling.

This is an auction hall, after all, and that’s what you’re supposed to do during a fancy auction like this—mingle.

Chloe knows how to mingle. How to smile and laugh and sip from her wine, all at the right times. It’s easy.

She knows how to humor the emotionally constipated rich, looking down on everyone else in disdain as they surreptitiously smooth lapels on the finest business suits made in the world, the cheapest of which go for over ten grand a pop.

She knows how to keep up with the snub-nosed scholars, marked by their tweed jackets and strategically placed elbow patches, arrogant in their own useless knowledge of the absurd and unheard of.

She knows how to entertain the schmoozing art collectors and black market dealers looking to make a quick buck, with unspeakably wealthy clients ready and waiting for a bidding war by phone, men and women not afraid to get their hands dirty or break a few rules to get what they want.

She also knows how to sweep in and steal the prize right out from everyone’s noses, too, but that’s not her job here, is it? No. Not tonight. Tonight, it’s mingling.

So she mingles.

Nadine is late. Chloe isn’t particularly worried, though. They’d agreed to arrive separately to this… _event_ , wanting to avoid any suspicion of their collusion, which, of course, will only make some people—the ones who _matter_ —even _more_ suspicious, which is entirely the point. They’re the distraction tonight, here in this lavishly ornate building in splendid Barcelona, and Samuel Drake is the surprise.

Chloe hasn’t seen him yet, but she’s guessing he’ll be disguised as a waiter or a security guard, and this overpriced set-up has plenty of both. She’d been a bit shocked when he first approached her with the job, a few months after their adventures in India with Ganesha’s Tusk, and that psychopath warlord Asav. Really, Chloe hadn’t expected to hear from Sam ever again, since they’d decided not to sell the Tusk at all, handing it over to the Ministry of Culture instead. Sam had been so upset with them, afterwards. Like a lost, kicked little puppy with its favorite ball taken away.

Still, he’d called, and she’d answered, and now she’s here, in lovely, charming, stupidly expensive Barcelona, a place she hasn’t visited often enough, and shame for that, because it’s stunning. But there’ll be time for sight-seeing later, because she’s working at the moment.

She does what Sam asked, and plucks wine from serving trays and laughs at bald men’s jokes and chats about foreign policy and the stock market and whatever else these spoiled rich folk deign important or fashionable enough to mention in casual conversation. Improvising is her forte. She’s using her real name tonight, confident no one here has heard of her, which means they’ll all be asking questions, whispering to one another on dark balconies, and once someone _does_ find out she’s a thief—not her word—then everyone will be focusing on her for the rest of the night, and not Sam.

Which is exactly what they want to happen.

Nadine? Nadine is backup. The muscle, as it were. Sam had actually asked for her not to come, but Chloe insisted—they are a team, after all. Partners. And partners didn’t go to rich, nauseatingly lavish auction halls and dinners to kiss arse and eat free food without each other. That would just be rude.

Really, that’s probably why Nadine is late—to piss Sam off. She and Sam have been getting along…well, not good, but better. They didn’t try to shoot each other first thing anymore, though not for lack of trying. Chloe is hoping tonight will turn out, and not devolve into a fire-fight, as it always seems to these days. She isn’t completely convinced it won’t, but here’s hoping.

It’s a black tie event, so of course, Chloe is wearing red. So far, she’s gotten some looks, but they’re good looks, not dirty ones—not that dirty ones can’t be good, right? Her dress is soft and satiny and very, very clingy. Her arms and thighs are bare, and her high heels are almost three inches, so her legs are no doubt spectacular. Her arse looks fantastic as well, she’s sure. Her hair is loose and silky and draped across her shoulder so everyone can see her bare back, framed by the low scoop of her dress.

She looks and feels like a million dollars, and even though she doesn’t even have a tenth of that to her name, she’s happy for the change of pace. Sliding through squelching, stinking mud and face-planting into dirty puddles while slapping mosquitoes and dodging chittering monkeys gets a little old after a while.

The auction hasn’t started yet, but that’s normal, since it’s barely past 8 o’clock. The hall where it will take place isn’t open yet, and everyone has been shuttled from their gleaming limousines to the dining hall for a late, complimentary meal. Chloe’s already circled the room a few times, scoping out the setup. The room is massive and so sparkling white it’s already giving her a headache. Small round tables flank the walls, perfectly kitted with spotless tablecloths and blindingly-polished silverware. Chloe has half a mind to swipe a few forks, just for posterity.

She’s on her second glass of wine and working a light buzz when a low murmur passes through the crowd. Chloe looks over to see what the fuss is all about and feels her breath catch in her throat. If she’d had any wine in her mouth at that moment, she might’ve choked.

It’s Nadine. She, of course, has stuck to the rules, and is wearing an absolutely enchanting little black dress with low-rise heels and only a pair of dangling silver earrings for jewelry. Her hair is down, make-up subtle. Chloe has never seen her gussied up before. She hasn’t even seen her with chapstick on. Covered in mud, and sweat, and bloody scratches, sure, but this… This is a new Nadine, standing in front of her. Chloe isn’t sure what to think. It’s a little off-putting, almost, but in a good way.

A very, very good way.

She gulps down the rest of her wine and then swipes another, heels clicking as she makes her way over to her partner, who catches sight of her and gives her a small smile.

“Frazer,” Nadine says cordially.

“Hello, love,” Chloe replies, playing off her moment of surprise. “You certainly know how to make an entrance.” She leans in and brushes polite air-kisses across Nadine’s cheeks.

 “You, ah, you look good,” Nadine says, though her eyes aren’t even anywhere near Chloe at the moment. Instead, she seems focused on their feet. Her blush is entirely becoming and not a little adorable.

“Why thank you, Miss Ross,” Chloe purrs, giving her partner a very obvious up-and-down before adding, “and may I say, you look… _exquisite_.”

Nadine scoffs, brushing her off with a roll of her eyes. “Ja, alright, Frazer. Very funny.”

“Oh, you’ll know when I’m being funny. You’ll be laughing. This is just the God’s honest truth.”

“Right. _Now_ I’m laughing.”

“Learn how to take a compliment,” Chloe teases. “You’re bloody gorgeous, alright?”

Nadine ignores her, which is only slightly infuriating. Does she simply not know how good she looks tonight? Nadine darts her eyes around, asks, “Our friend here?”

“Haven’t seen him yet, but I’m sure he’s nearby,” Chloe replies. “Hope you saved your appetite. Place like this, you know they’ll be serving the good stuff.” She sips her wine, then makes to share it with Nadine, knowing it’d cause a scene, which, again, is what they want. “Thirsty?”

“I like my drinks a bit stronger,” Nadine replies, spotting the bar at the far end of the room. “Want anything?”

“Ah, a gentlemen. No thank you, love.”

“I’ll be back.” Nadine’s hand brushes against the small of Chloe’s back as she leaves, and Chloe tries not to notice it as much as she does, opting instead to try and catch a glimpse of Sam. Nothing.

Nadine returns after a few minutes, chasing off the few curious guests who’ve gathered around Chloe in her absence. She has a glass of scotch on the rocks and sips slowly as she and Chloe survey the crowd.

“So,” says Chloe, “excited?”

“It’s an auction, Frazer. I’ve been to an auction before.” She grimaces, and Chloe is sure she is remembering Rafe, and a certain crucifix, and a pair of Drake brothers.

“Right. Heard the last one was terrible. This one should be better. And by better, I mean, more boring.” She grins, and Nadine loses her frown long enough to quirk a corner of her lip at her, seeming to appreciate Chloe’s attempt to lighten her spirits.

“I don’t know,” Nadine says. “Anytime a Drake is involved, things are bound to go badly.”

“Our friend promised me a quiet night,” Chloe insists. “Just dinner, and an auction, and afterwards?” She lifts a suggestive eyebrow. “Well, we’ll see where the evening takes us, won’t we?” Nadine still looks tense, so Chloe drops her voice to a whisper. “Have some faith, love. I mean, we weren’t even supposed to bring _guns_.”

Nadine coughs a little into her drink, looking guilty.

"You…?” Chloe gives her another slow up-and-down, incredulous. “Where…?” Really, she’s at a loss. Hiding a gun in that dress seems impossible.

"You don’t want to know,” Nadine says wryly.

“I kind of do, actually.”

Nadine coughs into her drink again, and Chloe chuckles.

"Don’t worry, love. You can show me later.” She winks, and Nadine downs the rest of her glass with an audible gulp.

“Going for another,” she says, voice rough from the burn of the drink. “Sure you don’t want anything?”

“Oh, believe me, I’m all set.”

“Right.” Nadine turns and walks stiffly away, moving as if she is very aware of Chloe’s eyes on her back, which they very much are, thank you. Christ, that dress. She can see the points of Nadine’s shoulderblades, the impressive muscles bulging along her spine, the broad cut of her shoulders, the hard thickness of her legs. Maybe she _should_ get another drink.

Instead, she mingles, remembering that’s what she’s there for. It’s something she can do with her eyes closed, and the more she does it, the more whispers she can hear behind her back, people confused, wondering who this fascinating woman is. Let them wonder. Being a distraction is vastly preferential to being a target.

Her stomach growls, and she decides to find herself a table to wait for supper. She spots her partner, already seated, and heads over, then stops short.

There is a handsome man speaking to Nadine, but her partner doesn’t look happy about it at all. She seems upset and cornered, and Chloe can visibly see her temper rising, and knows it’ll only be a few more moments before Nadine either hits the man in the face or threatens his life. They’re not supposed to be causing _that_ kind of a scene tonight, so Chloe runs interference, heels snapping loudly against the marble floor as she hurriedly struts toward them.

Nadine glances up, sees her, and looks only slightly relieved. The man leans in, a leering grin on his face, trying to scoot his chair closer to Nadine’s. He reaches out to do something incredibly foolish, like touch Nadine’s arm, or her hair—

“Darling!” Chloe nudges the chair with her foot to make some room and then plunks herself right down on Nadine’s firm lap, resting a familiar arm over the flex of her powerful shoulders, the other going to Nadine’s newly-filled drink, forgotten on the tablecloth. Quite deliberately, she places her mouth exactly where Nadine’s faint lipstick has made a mark on the glass, and drinks liberally. Scotch sears down her throat and makes her tongue curl. She hides a grimace, squeezes her eyes shut for a moment to collect herself, and then smiles at Nadine, who looks startled, but not completely terrified. That’s a start.

“Uh,” says Nadine, trying to uncross her legs, jostling Chloe, then quickly wrapping a solid arm around her waist to keep her steady, chivalrous as always.

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere, sweetie, I told you not to leave me alone, I don’t know anyone here!” Chloe pecks a quick kiss to the corner of Nadine’s mouth, ignoring the way her brown cheek twitches at the touch, and then twists around, pretending to just notice the man beside her. “Oh! Hello, there. You are…?”

“Um…” the man manages, looking between the two of them. “Leaving?”

“Right.” Chloe bares her teeth at him in what could barely be called a smile. Nadine, at least, hasn’t ruined the ruse by throwing Chloe onto the floor, but she is looking a bit red and uncomfortable. Hopefully the man will figure she’s just shy. “Have yourself a good evening.” She turns back to Nadine, ducks her head, and nuzzles her ear. The arm around her waist clenches, hard muscle twitching spastically.

"He’s gone, you know,” Nadine grumbles a few moments later, when Chloe hasn’t pulled away.

“Who’s gone?” Chloe asks, and then chuckles when Nadine gives her a grumpy look. Really, this is just too much fun.

“Funny, Frazer.”

“I told you I was, didn’t I?”

“There's an empty seat, right there,” Nadine says, jerking her chin at the newly-vacated chair beside her.

 “I like mine just fine.”

“Frazer,” Nadine warns, voice low.

“What, am I too heavy?” Chloe teases. Nadine huffs and looks away.

“’Course not. Just… People are staring, yeah?”

People _are_ staring. Talking, too, by the looks of it. Wonderful. Chloe bites her lip and leans in closer. “Good for them.” To be honest, she is quite comfortable. Nadine’s dress is soft under the bare backs of her knees, satiny smooth. Her thighs are hard and warm, the torso pressed to her side delectably firm. Chloe can feel every shift of that powerful body as Nadine works to balance her weight in her lap. Like Nadine herself said, she’s all muscle. Chloe remembers the weight of it, bearing down on her when they climbed ropes or cliffs or tumbled down gullies on top of each other, and takes the opportunity now to truly appreciate the feel of it.

It’s so good it almost hurts.

“Stop squirming,” Nadine breathes in her ear, a warning hand bracing itself against the curve of her hip, sinking into the soft flesh there.

“Worried I’ll find out exactly where you’re hiding that gun?”

"Ja,” Nadine says, rolling her eyes. “Rather not get shot in the leg.”

“Well, we can—”

There’s a sudden tinkling crash from across the room, where a waiter has stumbled over his own feet and dropped a full tray of champagne flutes, scattering the floor with glistening glass crumbs and bubbling, frothy liquid. The flustered waiter, looking disheveled and anxious for his accident, quickly mops up the mess with the towel on his shoulder and then practically bolts back toward the doors to the kitchens.

“That was interesting,” Chloe says once he’s gone. Boring as the night has been so far, that just might end up being the highlight.

And, seriously, where the hell is Sam, anyways? This is his gig, after all. Chloe doesn’t want to start worrying, but she very well might if she doesn’t see the mastermind to this heist in the next half hour.

“Let’s take a picture,” Chloe says suddenly, fishing up her dress for her phone, stuck in the waistband of her underwear. Nadine watches her with a mixture of muted humor and embarrassment.

“Really?”

“Yes, really.”

Nadine looks away. “I don’t think so.”

“Come on, darling,” Chloe says. “Humor me? I know I get to see your beautiful face all the time, now, but this, tonight, is just… _otherworldly_.” Really, when is the next time she will see Nadine so put together? How could she not want to capture this moment? Oh, the teasing it will inspire for years to come… She's looking forward to it.

Nadine downs what’s left of her scotch—Chloe’s put a dent in it—screwing up her face as she finally gives in. “Fine.”

Delighted, Chloe crooks her elbow around Nadine’s neck and leans in close. She presses their cheeks together, holds the phone up, and smiles broadly. “Smile!” Nadine, at least, manages not to scowl. It’s a good picture, and once it’s saved, she decides to have some fun, and sends it as a joke to a few of her contacts—namely, Nate, Elena, and Sully, with absolutely no context. Ha.

Afterwards, she opens the file on her phone that Sam had sent her before coming here, outlining the order of tonight’s events. Looks like supper will be arriving very soon, followed by the penultimate auction. Right. Hopefully she won’t die of boredom before then.

It occurs to her, swiping this way and that on her phone, that Nadine still hasn’t pushed her off her lap. Rather, she seems to have settled a little further into her chair, relaxed yet ready, holding Chloe casually by the hip, her thumb slowly tracing the sharp jut of Chloe’s hipbone through her dress, up and down, up and down.

“I—” Chloe starts, feeling slightly flushed, and then her phone rings, buzzing loudly in her hand. It’s… Sam? “Uh,” Chloe says, looking around. Why would Sam be calling her all of a sudden? Shouldn’t he be scoping out his little prize, whatever it was? Some sacred bowl, or a book, or was it a sword? She can’t remember. She doesn’t much care, since it’s not really her gig. She’s already found her prize for the night, and it’s sitting under her at the moment, breathing warmly and steadily against the back of her neck.

Nadine peers over her shoulder, sees her phone and frowns. “Hope nothing’s gone wrong,” she says lowly, eyeing the crowd, the hand on Chloe’s hip tightening, blunt fingernails digging in, as if already prepared to push her out of harm’s way. It’s sweet, really, how Nadine is so intent on protecting her. Innocent, in a way. It should not make Chloe think about those hands grabbing her hips in a completely different context. Not at all.

“Would you give me a moment, darling?” Chloe asks her with fake cheer, then turns herself the slightest bit to the left and brings the phone up to her ear, doing nothing at all to disguise the annoyance in her voice, snapping, “Do you mind? You’re _interrupting_.” She hears Nadine give a soft laugh, feels it ripple down through her body and into Chloe’s, and hopes to Christ she isn’t sweating through her dress. When had it gotten so hot in here?

“The hell you think you’re doin’?” Sam hisses back, his voice muffled, like he’s ducked into a back storeroom, or is hiding under a table somewhere, peeking at them from beneath the tablecloth.

“Me?”

“Yes, you!”

Clearly, he’s seen them, or maybe just Chloe, doing whatever it is she’s doing right then—tormenting Nadine?—but Chloe doesn’t feel the need to explain herself. “You said to be distracting.”

“Distracting the crowd, not _each other!_ ”

Irritation flares. “From where I’m looking, we are! You’ve got the two most beautiful women in this room—” Nadine stiffens imperceptibly, and Chloe can feel the heat of her sudden flush “—of course everyone is looking at us, so, you’re welcome, Sam. Now just let me do my job, and you do yours, alright?”

It’s quiet. A sudden thought occurs to Chloe, and she chuckles darkly, feeling Nadine stir restlessly under her, reacting to the low, throaty sound. “Oh my God. Were you the waiter who dropped the tray earlier?”

“No!” Sam tries, but Chloe just laughs louder.

“Oh my God, you were! Oh, that’s _perfect_. I was wondering what kind of dope could manage that.”

“Shut up! Look, just stop flirting with each other and do your damn job, alright? Jesus.” He hangs up, and Chloe rolls her eyes. So dramatic. Nothing wrong with having a little pleasure during your business, is there?

"Everything good?” Nadine asks, eyes half-lidded, still scanning the crowd. She hasn’t stopped doing the thing with her thumb, the rough, callused pad catching on the luxurious fabric of Chloe's dress. Chloe is halfway tempted to direct it elsewhere. Preferably, a bit further down and to the right—

Her phones buzzes. It’s a text from Nathan Drake.

 _Nadine!?!?_ it says.

And then, another, saying, _Ross!?!?_

Oh, Nate. That poor little bugger. He had no idea, did he?

 _Sorry, love_ , she sends back, and chuckles to herself, thankful Sam’s kept her partnership with the ex-Shoreline headwoman a secret for so long from his brother. That just makes this even more satisfying.

 Another text buzzes.

_she threw me out a WINDOW_

Chloe winces. “Did you throw Nate out a window?” she asks Nadine.

“Ja.”

“Well. Alright.” That probably shouldn’t be arousing. At all. She thinks, types, _she punched me in the face if that makes you feel better?_

Nate sends back a sad face, then, _hope you two are very happy together_

She laughs. Her phone buzzes again, but it’s not Nate this time, it’s Elena. A thumbs-up emoji, followed by, _congrats_ , _you two look really good together!_

Together? “Hmm.” Chloe taps back on the picture she’d taken, studies it again. She looks radiant and happy, and though Nadine isn’t smiling, there is a warmth in her eyes and a softness to her lips. They do look good together, don’t they? She’s sure Elena and Nate didn’t mean it like _that_ , but still, the idea is… _interesting_.

A bell rings faintly, and a voice rises above the hubbub of the room, politely announcing dinner is ready to be served. Chloe’s stomach growls, and Nadine chuckles. Chloe feels only slightly embarrassed as she slides regretfully from her lap onto the cold, hard chair beside her. Already, she’s thinking of ways to get back at Nadine—maybe asking to feed her during the first course?

Halfway through their initial appetizers—tiny finger food, Jesus, where’s the actual _meal?_ —a text comes through from Sully.

 _Nice_ , is all it says, and Chloe grins. Good ol’ Sully. She misses him. Maybe Nadine wouldn’t protest too much to meeting up with him sometime and going on a trip somewhere. Chloe does have some leads on an artifact in South America, and they’ll need a plane…

At last, the real food arrives, and it doesn’t disappoint. Chloe doesn’t know what half the dishes are even called, just that they melt in her mouth and she’s near dizzy with the richness. If the rest of the evening goes to shit, this will have made it well worth it.

Nadine is quiet. Even while she eats, she is alert, hyper-vigilant and ready, and so fiercely gorgeous it’s ridiculous. Chloe almost hits herself in the teeth with her fork, she’s staring so much.

“Can I get you lovely ladies anything else?” says a waiter once they’ve finished, sounding not at all helpful and more than a little pissed. Chloe looks up and grins. It’s Sam, face red, shirt rumpled. Clearly, he got yelled at for dropping all those champagne glasses earlier, and now he can’t get them back for it. Poor guy.

"Why, thank you so much for asking, sir, but I believe we are just fine,” she purrs. Sam yanks her empty plate away and glares.

Nadine has a perfectly blank look on her face. She sips her water and ignores Sam studiously, who grits his teeth and clears her plate almost resentfully.

“The auction will begin shortly,” he says. “Please proceed to the adjacent hall and take a seat. Enjoy the rest of your evening, ladies.”

“Oh, we will,” Chloe remarks, waving goodbye. She wipes her mouth on a napkin, taking care not to smear her lipstick, and stands with a long, satisfied groan. “That was marvelous.”

“The food, or Sam?” Nadine asks.

“Both.”

As they walk to the auction hall, trailed by the rest of the chattering crowd, Chloe sees the amorous man from earlier watching them skeptically, and whines to Nadine, “Won’t you hold my hand, darling?” earning herself a short glower.

“You still on about that?” Nadine hisses, quiet so no one can hear.

It wasn't Chloe’s plan going into this evening, pretending to be a couple, but it’s sure turning out to be fun, so she certainly isn’t going to stop now.

“Please?” she pouts.

Nadine huffs. Just before they reach the entrance doors and the auction room proper, she sticks out an elbow for Chloe to hang on to. It’s not her hand, but it’s the thought that counts. Chloe circles her fingers around Nadine’s bicep and squeezes appreciatively.

“What a gentleman,” she teases.

“I—” Nadine begins, and then there’s a sudden _thud_ behind them, as someone slams a door a little too hard. Nadine tenses, alarmed.

“ _Christ_ ,” says Chloe, under her breath, as the muscle in her grasp goes rock hard. Once Nadine is satisfied the door was simply an accident, she relaxes, and leads Chloe into the greatroom, finding chairs for them on one side, away from the bulk of the rest. Here, they can see everything.

At the front of the room is a beautifully dark-stained wooden stage, but Chloe can’t see any priceless treasures or mysterious artifacts upon it, yet, just a jumble of mismatched crates and boxes. Probably, they want to unveil each item one by one, to make it all the more dramatic, and drive the prices extraordinarily high. It will most likely work.

As more and more bodies fill the room, the tension mounts. Chloe hopes Sam is ready, but can’t see him. It feels almost like a quivering volcano, ready to blow. Her instincts niggle at her brain, like a hungry little mouse—it’s telling her something isn’t right. Beside her, Nadine seems to sense it, too. Her arm, beneath Chloe’s hand, is rigid and has not unflexed.

“Frazer,” she says, looking back towards the way they came, eyes narrowed.

On the stage, a portly old man toddles up to the podium and fiddles with the microphone, producing a light squeal and some static.

“We will begin shortly—” he says, but now Chloe can hear a racket in the background, coming from the doorway where Nadine is fixated, almost like—

“ _Frazer!_ ”

Gun! There’s a gun!

Someone screams.

A strong hand wraps around the back of Chloe’s neck and shoves her down, just as the first bullet flies, astonishingly loud as always. Her face is in the rug when the men flood in, so she doesn’t see as they fire their guns into the air, raining plaster and wood chips on the crowd, but she can very well hear it. What a racket. People bolt. The men, at least, don’t appear to be intent on murder, as they let them go, heading towards the forefront of the room. Chloe would get up to see what’s going on, but Nadine is on top of her now, shielding her from harm.

“Nobody move!” a voice bellows, presumably the leader, and the crowd, down on their knees like Chloe herself, quakes in terror.

Really. Where the hell is Sam?

“I don’t want to shoot anyone,” the leader goes on. “But I’ll be happy to, if anyone tries to get smart. Stay where you are, and everything will be fine.”

Twisting her head, Chloe looks up, and catches sight of him—it’s the man who’d been flirting with Nadine before dinner. Of course. Naturally, he is heading straight over to them, casual as could be, a large, gleaming pistol in one hand. Fanning out behind him are about twenty men, dressed to the nines, wielding pistols, machine guns, and even a sawed off shotgun. Guests of the auction, then, disguised as potential buyers. Right. Chloe should have seen that coming.

The man’s flawlessly polished dress shoes stop about a foot from Chloe’s nose.

“Chloe Frazer,” he says.

“Yes? Hello?” Chloe replies, voice muffled, still trapped under Nadine, who is glaring furiously up at the man, every inch of her primed and tense to attack.

“Get up. Both of you.” When they fail to immediately obey, he levels the gun at them. “ _Now_.”

Slowly, Nadine stands, hands up. Chloe has to use a chair to stagger back onto the points of her heels, brushing her hair back into place. She clears her throat, extends a polite hand to the man.

“I believe I’m at a disadvantage, Mister…?”

The man sneers at her hand like it’s been dipped in something foul. “You _are_ at a disadvantage, Miss Frazer. We’re terribly sorry, but I’m afraid you won’t be getting what you came here for tonight.” To one of his henchmen, he snaps, “Get the necklace.” The lackey obeys, vaulting up onto the stage and starting to break the crates apart, searching through handfuls of straw for their prize.

Ah, _that’s_ what it was—a necklace! _Now_ she remembers. Egyptian, if she recalls correctly, belonging to some secret love child of Nefertari. She can’t imagine Sam will be happy, having his loot stolen out from under him.

“Fine with me,” says Chloe. “It’s tacky, anyways. Take it.”

“Oh, we will,” the man snarls. “But my employer would very much like to meet you.” He lowers the gun at Chloe’s abdomen. “Then again, he didn’t exactly say you had to be alive during the meeting.”

“Don’t point that gun at her,” Nadine warns, a dangerous growl in her voice. The man grows faintly wary, eyes flicking between them nervously. He swallows.

“Nadine Ross,” he says. “I know you. I’ve heard of your… accomplishments. Whatever you’re thinking of doing, I would suggest you reconsider. This gun does have a hair trigger, after all.”

Nadine doesn’t back down, stepping forward so her front is pressed to Chloe’s back. “You touch her, I’ll kill you.”

“Alright, everyone calm down,” Chloe says, and then realizes exactly why Nadine is standing so close to her; if she were to reach back and up a bit, she could get her hand under Nadine’s dress, and to the gun she’s hidden up there. Her heart thumps hard in her chest, adrenaline shooting through her veins. She holds her breathe, eases herself…

The man frowns. “I’m going to give you one chance. If you tell us where Sam Drake is, I’ll only shoot one of you.”

“Tempting,” Chloe says, her fingers curling beneath the hem of Nadine’s skirt.

“I won’t ask again. Where—”

“ _Over here, tough guy!_ ” roars Sam Drake, leaping from a nearby balcony like some kind of ill-suited superhero. He lands directly on top of their new friend, sending his gun spinning into the air, the two men wrestling on the ground, kicking chairs over, swearing and grunting. Henchmen sprint forward, shouting, guns out, aiming at Sam and Chloe and Nadine all at once.

“Frazer!” Nadine snaps, and Chloe touches hard muscle and warm skin, and feels a rough line of tape, stuck to Nadine’s inner thigh, and the slight bulk of a compact handgun. Nadine doesn’t even flinch as Chloe tears it free, whips it out, and starts shooting.

It’s chaos, after that.

There’s almost no cover at all in this room, and people are running and screaming and falling over and Chloe can’t tell who’s with the man on the floor and who's not until someone actually shoots at her. It’s a horrible method of elimination, but Nadine adopts another, barreling forward straight into anyone who isn’t running the other way, shoes already kicked off, fists swinging. She levels a man a head taller than her with one solid uppercut. Another attempts to fight back, but Nadine seizes his wrist and snaps in with an audible crunch before spinning and smashing him in the face with the hard edge of her shin, sending the man flying to the floor. She grabs another by the back of his head and slams his face into a chairback, breaking the wood on impact, then takes him by the arm and hurtles him right out a nearby window with a crashing explosion of glass.

If it’s anything like Nate looked, Chloe feels a little bad for him, yet unspeakably aroused.

“Not the time, Chloe,” she chides herself, and then Nadine _lifts_ a full-grown man completely off his feet, and _throws_ him flailing into the glossy dark-stained oak podium, splinters flying, and Chloe nearly moans aloud.

They work together to clear the room, Nadine breaking noses, necks, and ribs while Chloe covers her as best she can, cutting down any of the men trying to shoot Nadine in the back, but she’s got limited bullets. The second she runs out, she scrambles through the tangle of chairs, looking for the gun the man had dropped when Sam jumped on him.

Right, Sam! She searches, finds him—still grunting and straining with his grapple-partner, throwing punches when he can and taking a few as well, bleeding from the mouth but appearing otherwise unhurt—and then unearths the man’s gun beneath a pile of broken chair legs. She cocks it just as a henchman aims his rifle at Nadine’s head, shooting him smartly between the eyes.

“The necklace!” Sam bellows across the room, voice slurred from a fat lip. “Get the necklace!”

The necklace, right. Chloe goes for the stage, shoots a henchman hiding behind a crate and starts working her way through them. On the fourth, she finds a small metal box padlocked shut.

“Is this it?” she shouts, waving it about.

“Little busy!” Sam replies, taking a punch to the gut with a wheeze. His opponent sees the box in Chloe’s hand and his face turns bright red, veins bulging in his temples.

“ _STOP HER!_ ” he roars, and the rest of the henchmen in the room hone in on Chloe.

“Oops.”

She leaps off the stage as bullets fly, landing behind a pile of chairs just as a shotgun blast tears a hole into the paneling behind her. She risks a peek from cover. There are only six men left, other than the leader. Nadine is fighting three at once, dodging and weaving easily around their sloppy strikes. Anytime a gun comes up, she snatches the hand holding it and does serious damage with precise throws and kicks. It’s almost like she’s playing with them. She doesn’t even look tired.

Chloe aims and starts taking down the rest. She’s a good shot, most of the time, and two slump before a third catches on. He spins, fires. Chloe cries out in pain when the heat of the missed bullet blazes by her shoulder. Nadine’s head snaps around.

“ _Chloe!_ ”

Really, the guy doesn’t stand a chance.

After Nadine pummels the man to a bloody pulp, she throws him onto a sidetable, just because. Decorative candles sputter and one catches on a billowing drape. Within seconds, another catches, and then the wall is on fire.

“Oops,” says Nadine, and Chloe can’t help laughing.

“Little help over here!” Sam wails.

Chloe whirls just as he’s knocked to the ground, groaning. Alone now, the black-eyed, bloody-lipped leader fixes Chloe with a frightening look bordering on insanity. His eyes, glowing in the light of the fast-snapping flames, are fastened to the box in her hands.

“Er,” says Chloe. Nadine is across the room. If the man decides to—

Yup, he does—

He charges like an enraged bull, thundering toward her. Chloe aims her gun and squeezes the trigger, hears a _click_.

“Really?” She throws the empty gun down in disgust, considers making a run for it, and then does the only thing she can think of—she throws the box out the window.

“ _What the fuck, what the fuck!_ ” Sam screeches in the background.

Without slowing down, the man chases after it, and leaps outside in a crash of glass and wood—apparently forgetting they are a good four stories up.

Chloe’s glad she doesn’t hear the resulting _squish_. Probably, the box has survived its fall, and the necklace inside, if it was padded appropriately. They can find it later.

Then Nadine is there. “You alive, Frazer?” she says, trying to appear casual, like she didn’t just lose her shit because Chloe was hurt.

“I’m fantastic,” says Chloe, batting her eyelashes. She hopes she doesn’t look too horrible, hair tangled, dress ripped and sweat-stained. “Let me say, watching you work is—”

“Nooo!” came a sudden moan of despair. Alive and well, Sam stumbles between the two of them on his way to the broken window, limping visibly. “My necklace!”

“Relax, Sam, we can pick it up later,” Chloe chides. To Nadine, she adds, “Boys and their toys.”

Sam leans against the shattered window frame and lets out a deep sigh before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a cigarette. “Well,” he says, taking a drag, “that could have gone better. Like, way better. But, still…”

“Lemme have a look at that,” Nadine says, ignoring Sam entirely. She gently maneuvers Chloe so she can see her shoulder, where she’s begun to bleed just slightly. “We’ll have to get you patched up, back at the hotel.” She looks so worried Chloe wants to cry. She’s being adorable again.

“How 'bout you, china? All good?” she asks, taking in Nadine’s swollen knuckles, her scraped arms, her bare feet.

“Don’t worry about me.”

“Oh, but I do.”

“I’m fine, Frazer.”

“Thanks, for… You know.”

“Ja.”

“Uh, the room is still on fire, guys,” says Sam.

Oh. Chloe blinks, and feels the heat of the hungry flames close in. She’d forgotten.

“Er, plan?”

Sam casts about, cigarette dangling from his lip, but all the doors are wreathed in flame. He peers back outside, then stands up on the sill. “Here we go!”

Chloe joins him unsteadily. How she hasn’t broken a heel yet is beyond her.

Far below is a crumpled body ringed with blood— _ew_ —and, more importantly, a large, bubbling fountain, maybe deep enough for them to survive, only about a foot away from the corpse. Bad luck for him. Chloe can hear sirens in the distance. If they’re leaving, they need to leave now.

“Jump!” yells Sam, and then takes his own advice, leaping towards the water.

“Do you know how much this dress cost me?” Chloe yells back. She gets a splash as an answer, followed by a whoop.

“Ready?” says Nadine, on the sill beside her. Chloe breathes out and nods.

They jump.

At least Nadine doesn’t push her this time.

The impact comes faster than she anticipated, and the water is cold. Chloe bonks her arse on the bottom of the fountain but emerges otherwise unscathed, coughing from the bubbles in her nose. Nadine is there a moment later, helping her climb over the carved lip. All three of them are hopelessly soaked and giddy, but alive.

Behind them, the auction hall burns, staining the black night sky a bloody red.

“I’ll get the car,” Nadine says, bare feet slapping on the pavement as she jogs away. Sam is crawling about on hands and knees, trying to find where his precious box has bounced off to. Chloe is ready to clonk him on the head if he won’t leave by the time the car comes around, but then he bursts from under a bush with it clasped in his hands, dented all to hell but relatively intact.

“Ha-HA!” he cries, overjoyed. “It’s here! My necklace! Help a guy out, Chloe!”

Nadine’s not back yet, so Chloe shrugs and tugs a bobby pin from one of her many hiding places. The lock opens in under five seconds, a personal best.

Inside there is decidedly _not_ a necklace.

Instead, it’s a withered papyrus scroll.

“Son of a bitch!” Sam unrolls the feathery paper and reads it in the glow of the crackling flames. “Inside the crypt of… ya-da, ya-da… There you will find what you seek… What? I gotta go to Cairo now? Son of a _bitch!_ ”

He complains the entire way to the hotel. Nadine parks, and Chloe feels only slightly sorry for the large wet spots they’ve all left on the leather seats. It’s a rental.

Outside the entrance doors, Sam bids them farewell.

"Listen,” he says. “I know tonight didn’t go perfectly—”

“Oh, it didn’t go at all,” Chloe chimes in.

"—but I just wanted to say, I’m glad I brought you guys along. Even you, Nadine. Gotta admit, you look good in a dress.”

“Shut up, Drake.” Barefoot, Nadine pads into the hotel, the automatic doors hissing open and then shut behind her.

“Sheesh. Learn how to take a compliment,” Sam mumbles. “Least she didn’t punch me.”

“It’s been… interesting,” Chloe says, and they shake hands. “What’s next for you?”

“Cairo, looks like. Know any good pilots?” He grins, and Chloe knows a very grouchy Sully will probably be getting a call soon.

“I heard Egypt is lovely this time of year,” Chloe says, and waves as he heads off down the sidewalk, soaked, torn waiter uniform, fat lip and all. It’s quiet, after he’s gone. Still. Other than the very faint sound of fire sirens and ambulances, of course. She’d like to take a few minutes to gather herself, enjoy the crisp Barcelona air, but she’d also really like to get out of this wet dress.

Upstairs, Nadine is already in their shared bathroom, halfway undressed, door left wide open. There is a puddle of water growing in a ring at her feet, and her dress is partly undone and gathered at her waist, exposing wet, gleaming muscles and lovely freckle and scar-dotted skin.

Chloe wants to sink her teeth into her.

Nadine sees her watching but doesn’t close the door. She pushes her dress down over her hips and off her legs before stepping out of it, leaving her in only a strapless bra and a pair of black lace panties riding so low Chloe can see the upper curve of her arse, and the rigid furrow of muscle where her thighs meet her lower abdomen, the v-shape pointing straight down to her crotch. Chloe didn’t even know women _had_ that muscle. She doesn’t even know what it’s _called_.

Maybe she’ll find out.

Her phone rings. Thanking God for waterproof cellphones, Chloe answers, not looking away from Nadine.

“Yes?”

“Hey, Chloe, just me.” It’s Sam, voice tinny in the phone speakers. “Just wanted to say thanks again. You guys really saved my bacon tonight.”

“Uh-huh.”

Now Nadine has her soggy black dress in her hands, holding it over the tub, twisting the delicate fabric in her fists, sending a shower of water droplets streaming down onto the porcelain. The motion brings every single muscle in her arms and shoulders into high relief. Chloe swallows a gasp, feels a low pulse start to throb, back behind her belly button.

There’s a look on Nadine’s face that Chloe hasn’t noticed before. Something warm, and inviting, and just the slightest bit hopeful. She stands there, practically naked, not attempting to cover herself or that beautiful body of hers, and lifts an eyebrow at Chloe.

 _Well?_ it seems to say.

“Anyways,” Sam prattles on. “I appreciate it. I know you usually don’t do jobs unless you know you’re gonna get something from it.”

"Who says I didn’t?” Chloe grins, and then hangs up, stepping into the bathroom with Nadine and shutting the door behind her.

**Author's Note:**

> I just wanted to write Nadine in a dress, that's all


End file.
